


the world will be alright

by siehn



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-29
Updated: 2012-05-29
Packaged: 2017-11-06 05:36:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/415321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siehn/pseuds/siehn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They always did live in each other's pockets, and it's so familiar it hurts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the world will be alright

**Author's Note:**

> Birthday fic for ciaimpala. ♥

Bucky moves into Avengers Tower on a Wednesday. 

Fury isn’t exactly happy about it, but there isn’t much a guy can do when Captain America barges in, demanding the release of his best friend with his entire team, and their handler, backing him. 

Bucky thought it was pretty damn funny, actually. 

He’s not technically supposed to be allowed to integrate back into the civilian world yet; he hasn’t been cleared by his therapist, but after a lengthy argument between the Avengers, Fury, and said therapist, he’s given his signed release papers and allowed to leave. 

“Gee, I dunno. I might not be able to handle the big wide world out there,” he mutters, rolling his eyes because it’s an extremely ridiculous notion, and Stark’s been sneaking him tech since the day he _woke up_. Also, Steve. It would be a lot harder without Steve, and half the time Bucky is trying to figure out how the Hell he got so lucky, and who he should thank for it. 

He read the file, courtesy of Steve’s team, about everything that happened after he fell, and he can’t help but be grateful he didn’t live to hear Steve crash a plane in the ice over a com because it would have broke him. Then again, he probably would have been there _with him_ , but speculation is useless, and the future is waiting. 

Stark claps him on the shoulder as they walk through the door, grinning, and Bucky has already labeled him both _trouble_ , and _fun_ , because he knows both when he sees it. “Don’t worry Barnes; we got the Capsicle over there adjusted pretty well,” and Bucky can’t help but snort at that and watch Steve roll his eyes, fond and apparently well-used to Tony Stark by now. “I’m sure you’ll fit right in.” 

He’s not sure that’s a compliment, judging from some of the things he’s read and seen from these people. They almost remind him of the Commandos, a little, and his smile turns wistful around the edges. Steve nudges his shoulder, something knowing in the look on his face, and nods towards the Quinjet the rest of them are boarding. 

“Clint’ll probably teach you how to fly it if you want,” he offers, and Barton waves casually in what Bucky assumes is agreement as he and Natasha start up the flight sequence. 

“Definitely,” Bucky agrees because it looks, as Stark says ‘awesome.’ Then he really gets a look at it, once they’re inside. “It’s different than the ones SHIELD uses.” 

“I designed it,” Stark puts in, looking up from his huddle with Banner and their little computer-pads. “Well,” he amends, “I designed all of them, even SHIELD’s, but this one I did specifically for us, so yeah. It’s a little different.” 

“It has more bells and whistles,” Steve adds, though Bucky didn’t really need the translation. He’s had about a month to learn Stark-speak, and he’s gotten pretty good at it. Meeting JARVIS had been extremely helpful, as well as really fascinating. 

Mostly, Bucky learned a lot of probably completely random things about the future in a really short time, and JARVIS could be hilarious sometimes. 

“So when do I get to meet Thor?” He’s heard so much about the guy, especially from Steve, that he kind of wants to see if he lives up to all the hype. Plus, he’s never met a god before, so he’ll be able to cross that off his list. 

“He’s back in Asgard at the moment,” Steve says, and is so completely calm at the prospect of a god from another dimension/planet that Bucky almost dissolves into semi-hysterical laughter himself. “Something about a celebration, a feast, and killing a boar the size of a small mountain.” 

Bucky isn’t even going to touch that one, honestly. There are some things that are just a little too far on the other side of ‘overwhelming,’ and also he’s still in therapy for a reason. 

“Right,” Bucky nods, trying not to imagine it, “sounds fun.” 

\---------------------------------------------------------

Avengers Tower is huge, and noticeable, and everyone apparently has their own _floor_. 

Except Bucky, obviously; though Stark does offer to build him one immediately, as soon as Bucky can come up with the design he wants. 

He doesn’t need it, though, once Steve offers to share his own space, and they always did live out of each other’s pockets. It’s more comfortable than having an entire floor to himself would be; he’s been alone too long. Still, the familiarity of it almost hurts, for both of them, and the past lingers like an old ghost that they can’t seem to get rid of. 

They’ll deal with it in time, and they have that now without a war looming over them, and Bucky kind of just wants to bask in the fact that they’re both here, together. Alive. 

Even if Steve has picked up some sort of mother hen instinct somewhere down the line. It probably comes from leading the Avengers; they all seem to need it. 

“I _told_ you it’s fine,” he says, for the hundredth time, as he sets his small bag of belongings down beside the sofa. It’ll do until they can find a bed for the guest room, and honestly Bucky really isn’t picky. “Trust me, it’s way better than the cot I had at SHIELD.” 

Steve sighs at him. “I just want you to be comfortable, Buck,” he says, all sincere puppy, and Bucky is used to that look. It’s almost funny how Steve hasn’t really changed at all from the skinny, stupid kid from Brooklyn who never ran from a fight. 

Bucky doesn’t even feel like himself half the time. At least there’s one constant he can use to anchor himself. 

“I’m fine, Steve,” he says again, making a point of turning around and setting his hands on Steve’s shoulders firmly. “It’s a sofa. It isn’t gonna kill me to sleep on it.” 

“You’re the only one who still calls me that, y’know,” Steve says slowly, dropping down onto the couch, and pulling Bucky down beside him. He leans against Steve because he can. “It’s always ‘Cap’ or ‘Captain’ or ‘Rogers’ now.” 

“Or ‘Capsicle,’” Bucky laughs, because it’s a hilariously bad nickname, and Stark is a genius who apparently knows how to push most of Steve’s buttons. He has to appreciate that in a guy. 

Steve groans, and knocks their shoulders together. He stays there, both of them leaning on each other. “You two are the only ones who think that’s funny.” 

“I have pretty reliable sources that say we aren’t.” 

“This is why Coulson and Thor are my favorites,” Steve tries for sulking, and fails because he can’t keep the grin off his face. Bucky knows how he feels. 

He hasn’t been able to get rid of the stupid grin off his face since he walked in with his best friend at his side. He just shakes his head, and lets it fall against Steve’s shoulder because it’s not the 40s anymore, and no one is around to care. 

“I almost can’t believe this is happening,” he says after a moment, quiet, and closes his eyes just so he can feel everything better. 

Steve doesn’t say anything for a long time, just breathes through whatever memory is assaulting him. It isn’t an uncomfortable silence, but Bucky is still glad when Steve finally breaks it. “I can’t either,” he murmurs, the words barely there, and lost somewhere in Bucky’s hair because Steve’s decided to bury his face in it. “I thought you were dead. I didn’t…I couldn’t,” he stops, inhales sharply, and shakes his head. “I missed you _so much_ , Buck.” 

Bucky honestly doesn’t know what to say, how to make Steve realize none of the things that happened back during the war were his fault; he doesn’t know how to forgive something there was no blame for in the first place.  


“I’m glad you’re here, man. I don’t think I’d want to do this without you,” he says instead, because it’s true. 

Their eyes are red-rimmed, and both of them are struggling with a hundred different emotions at once. Steve doesn’t want to let him go, and Bucky isn’t in any hurry to let Steve out of his sight, either. It isn’t the 40s anymore, and there’s no war, and they have all the time in the world. 

Bucky doesn’t sleep on the sofa, and they don’t get another bed for the guest room. It turns out Steve likes to cuddle, and Bucky kind of really loves the way he feels grounded when Steve’s arms are wrapped around him during the night.


End file.
